Woe
by Chezza
Summary: By CeCe Smith. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was humiliation.
1. Story Info and Disclaimer

**Title:** Woe 

**Author: **CeCeSmith

**E-mail:** cecesmith (at) hotmail (dot) com

**Category: **Episode Addition/Angst

**Rating:** PG-13

**Pairing: **S/J UST

**Season:** Seven

**Spoilers: **Chimera, Heroes Pt2

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Janet Fraiser

**Warnings:** Character Death, Angst

**Summary:** It wasn't a hallucination. It was humiliation.

**Archive:** Chezza's Gate, Helio, , Gateworld Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions---wish I could have just an itty-bitty piece, but am forced to be satisfied as a spectator.

**Author's Notes: **Dedicated to Jill, who needs to Get Well Soon ;o)

**© CeCe Smith, 2003**

o0o


	2. Chapter 1

Stretched out languidly on the couch, Sam tried in vain to sleep. She had lain for hours in the dark living room, with only the sound of her own stuffy breathing as a distraction. When the drowse of slumber finally began to overtake her, she yawned deeply, triggering a coughing fit that continued for several agonizing minutes.

She lay still until the urge to cough had lessened and then sat up slowly. Her head swam from the change in blood pressure and she leaned forward, very careful not to move too quickly. She used the arm of the couch to help her onto her feet.

Wobbling slightly, she stood there for a moment and waited for the wave of dizziness to pass. She dragged herself into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, wincing at the brightness of the light inside it. She reached in and pulled out a bottle of water, reveling in the cool texture of the plastic. Lifting the bottle she ran it over her forehead, sighing at the deliciously cold feel of it against her burning hot skin. She held it there for a long moment before the urge to cough returned.

Lowering the bottle again, she twisted the cap, but it didn't budge. She tried again but to no avail. Frustrated, she grabbed the kitchen towel that hung on the handle of the stove and used it to open the cap. She drank thirstily from the bottle, not caring about the dribble of water that slipped down her chin.

Having finished off over half of the contents, she wiped her sleeve across her wet face and along the trail that had been left by her sloppiness. She leaned wearily against the counter and sighed softly, not wanting to aggravate her sore lungs.

Try as she may, she couldn't remember a time where she had ever felt so helpless and weak. It had only been two weeks since the loss of her best friend. The pain of Janet's death made the ache of her body seem insignificant. She could feel the familiar sting of tears as she mentally replayed the images of the last seconds of that fateful mission.

She had been so worried about the Colonel that she had allowed herself to lose focus. She had abandoned her duty and position covering the others. With little hesitation, she'd run to his side, just to check, to make sure he was alive. He was, but mere moments later, her best friend was not.

It had all happened so fast, yet it now felt like an eternity. It hardly seemed possible that fourteen days had passed since she said goodbye to the one person who knew the lie she was living. Janet had promised to take her secret to the grave, and she did.

Sam hated herself now for phrasing it that way. It had been a joke at the time, telling her best friend to hide the truth at any cost. But her words spoken in jest had become fact. It was as if she had tempted fate. She blamed herself for her friend's death. It lay solely on her head; the same one that now pounded from the pressure of too much mucus and too little sleep.

Dropping the bottle from fingers that no longer had the strength to hold it, she slid to the floor in a boneless heap and let the tears flow freely. She couldn't stop them or the emotions that poured out of her fatigued self; instead she released the burden of her heart.

o0o

Continues...


	3. Chapter 2

Awaking sometime later, Sam found she was shivering. The cold of the tile floor had seeped into her skin. She shifted to a more comfortable position and cracked one eye open, just enough to see if it were morning yet.

She blinked sleepily to clear the gum from her eyelashes, and glanced up at the clock magnet on the fridge. She groaned, closing her eyes again and considering the time. She'd only slept four hours.

"Morning."

Sam jerked at the voice that greeted her. For a second, she thought she had imagined it, like so many other things the past two sleepless days. Exhaustion and lack of nourishment were known to play tricks on the mind.

"You comfy down there?"

It wasn't a hallucination. It was humiliation. She refused to open her eyes and acknowledge the man standing in her kitchen. If she waited long enough, maybe he would disappear like the others. This wasn't have been the first time she imagined him watching over her, caring for her.

"Carter?"

Usually the only time she actually heard him speak was in her dreams. But the tone was always gentle, always loving. Not so, now. Concerned yes, but still maintaining a proper distance. Realizing he wouldn't fade away, she sighed heavily which tickled her throat and caused the coughing to resume with a vengeance.

She felt the warmth of a hand rubbing slow circles on her aching back, soothing the spasms that flitted through her. After the coughs abated, she reached blindly for the half-empty bottle of water. She felt his hand brush hers as he handed it to her.

"Here."

The whisper was so faint and tender that she didn't even recognize the owner. Rolling onto her back, she dreaded the silence, but the thought of conversing terrified her. His featherlike fingertips brushed across her forehead, checking for signs of fever. Sam forced herself not to shrink from his touch, but relaxed as he removed his hand from her brow.

Opening her eyes, she shifted her gaze between him and the clock. She hated the fact she'd just spent the past half hour ignoring his presence, but was unable to think of an apology. The cliché about honesty flitted to the surface and prompted her response.

"Sir."

"Carter, don't worry about it. You've pushed yourself too hard the past couple of weeks. It was bound to catch up with you. Why don't I help you into bed? The floor's not exactly promoting your good health."

Slipping his arms under her armpits, he folded her into his embrace. Using one hand to anchor their weight, he lifted her up onto her feet. With an arm around her waist, he guided her to her room and laid her in the bed.

He positioned her so she was propped up on a mountain of pillows and covered her in blankets. Surrounded by warmth, Sam felt the lull of sleep encompass her and closed her eyes.

Her body already numb, she pried her lids open long enough to peer at the man sitting on the bed beside her.

"Thanks, sir." She mumbled sincerely.

Granting her a brief smile, Jack whispered, "No problem, get some sleep. I'll be right here."

She returned the smile shyly and then slipped into dark oblivion.

o0o

Continues...


	4. Chapter 3

Sounds emanating from the kitchen woke Sam from a dream filled with distorted images. Memories clashed with fantasies, both leaving behind a tremor of regret and remorse that haunted her mercilessly.

A soft whistling floated into her room, and she couldn't help but smile. He had stayed. Frowning at the implication it presented, she hoped he was simply acting the 'concerned commanding officer' and nothing more. She wasn't sure she could deal with anything more right now.

Part of her was worried that he would assume the worst. That she had let her emotions take control and the 'flu' was actually a byproduct of her grief. He had never accused her of such a thing before, but that didn't mean he hadn't thought it. She remembered far too well his response to her when Daniel had died. He told her it was a part of life.

Snorting at the oxymoron, Sam decided to set the record straight. She had to know why he was here, why he had come. Usually he would send Daniel or even Teal'c, why not this time? What had changed?

She stepped into the adjoined bathroom and then took a long, comforting shower. Cleansed and somewhat refreshed, she combed her hair and put on a clean outfit. She bent over to slip on her shoes, but the effort caused her coughing to return. Finally able to breath again, she decided to forgo the shoes and just go barefoot. She left the room; slightly nervous at what she might find waiting for her. The first thing she noticed was the couch. It had been tidied up and all the tissues and empty water bottles were gone.

"Hey, you're up! Shower works wonders, huh? You hungry? I've managed to scrounge up enough ingredients to make a fairly decent pot of soup."

Choking back the tears at his thoughtfulness, she nodded and walked into her spotless kitchen. He'd obviously spent his time cleaning her house, since there were no traces of the mess she had made over the past two days. A quiet buzzing from the far end of the house alerted her that the dryer was turning off.

"You did my laundry?" She asked astonished.

"Uh, yeah. Well, some of the stuff was kinda potent, so I thought I'd just go ahead and take care of it. Is that a problem?"

His lack of embarrassment unnerved her. He had basically played the maid for the last six hours, with no sense of annoyance. In fact, he seemed fine with it; comfortable, even.

"Carter?"

"Oh, sorry sir, uh no, no problem." She mumbled quietly, and sat in a chair at the table.

"Okay, so you feeling any better? You slept well." Jack conversed while he filled two bowls with soup.

"You were out pretty soundly, didn't even stir when I dropped a couple of pans on the floor."

"I didn't? How do you—oh! You checked on me?" Sam's timid voice questioned him.

Sitting down, he placed a bowl in front of her and handed her a spoon. He cleared his throat and answered, "Yeah, wanted to make sure I hadn't scared the living daylights out of you. Also checked your temperature to see if your fever had broken yet."

"Oh." She stared at the contents of the bowl, not able to think of anything else to say.

"Carter, what's up? You're acting like I did something wrong. Was I out of line?"

His statement was her undoing. Tears welled up and spilled over, droplets splashing into her soup. She tried to hide her face behind her hands, but Jack pulled them away gently.

"Sam, I'm sorry. Maybe I should have sent Teal'c, he seems to be better at this with you…"

Shaking her head, she sobbed, "No, it's just too much! I know you're trying to help, but you shouldn't be here. Not you."

Confused and a little hurt, he asked, "Why not me?"

"You know why!" She yelled, jerking her hands from his grip. She stood up suddenly, but the abrupt motion caused her to stumble. Jack reached her in time to catch her fall. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and held her to his chest.

"I know, but I need to be here." He murmured in her hair.

Pulling back slightly to see his face, she started to ask him why but saw the answer in his dark eyes. Not willing to break the connection, she stared unashamedly at him.

"Sam." His voice was so soft that she didn't hear the sound, only felt the breath on her face. She closed her eyes and parted her lips slightly, sending the invitation.

For a brief moment she stood there waiting. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes and saw the turmoil he was in. His eyes showed evident desire, but his jaw was firmly set. Bowing her head in acceptance, she backed out of his embrace and sat down dejectedly on the couch.

She shook her head, and muttered sadly, "I'm sorry, sir. I should never-"

"Carter, it was as much me as you." Jack seated himself beside her with a safe distance between them. "I should go."

"No!" Sam disagreed forcibly, "It's fine, and we're fine. We are still friends, right? Just because I overreacted a little, it doesn't mean you have to leave."

She glanced at the kitchen table and added gently, "Besides, I've yet to taste your soup."

He shrugged his shoulders and then stood to his feet. "Fine, after lunch then."

She accepted his offered hand of help and rose unsteadily to stand in front of him. Giving his hand an extra squeeze, she followed him to the table. She waited for him to take the first bite. His grin of approval at his cooking skills was enough to relax them both.

She smiled, and said softly, "Thank you sir, for everything. You've gone way above the call of duty."

Jack cleared his throat and put his spoon down in the bowl. Folding his hands, he replied with a frown.

"No, I haven't. If anything, I've been neglecting it. I shouldn't have waited so long to check on you. I let my personal feelings disrupt my normal command decisions. If it had been Danny or Teal'c, I would have been here yesterday. Heck, I wouldn't have let them get so worn out that they'd get sick!"

Laughing caustically, he added, angry with himself, "Hell, I've been sending Daniel home every night at nineteen hundred hours, even followed him a couple of times, just to make sure he went."

He swallowed a lump of emotion and gritted his teeth. "I should have done the same with you."

"You couldn't. I wouldn't have let you. I made my choices and now I have to live with them." Sam blinked back the tears and forced herself to remain in control.

Confused and slightly irked by her explanation, he asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Taking a deep breath, she answered calmly, "I chose to leave my position. I chose to put your life above hers. I chose to—" she broke off, attempting to regain her composure.

"Carter, there was nothing, and I mean NOTHING you could have done to prevent it from happening. We were all under fire. They were way out of our range and had a team covering them at their position. From what Wells told me, it was a stray shot. She wasn't the target. Daniel confirmed it with the airman covering them; the Jaffa was aiming at him."

"But still, I –"

"No, you couldn't. You have got to get it into your head that you had no control over what happened. None. "

Realizing he'd snapped at her, he toned down his voice and said softly, if somewhat embarrassed, "As for leaving your position, well, it probably saved my life."

Stunned by his admission, she whispered, "How?"

Jack cleared his throat and replied evenly, "I heard you."

"What?" Sam began to tremble as she processed what he had said.

"I heard you, when you called for me."

"Oh." She sighed, slightly relieved by his statement. Gripping his hands so tight that his knuckles were white, he added mutely, "and when you checked my wound."

Sam inhaled a gasp, which caused her to cough again, but then subsided quickly. She managed to choke out, "No!"

"Yeah. That's why I shouldn't be here. I know it's cowardly, but it's how it has to be."

He stood up and grabbed his coat the hung by the front door. Reaching for the knob, he half turned and muttered sadly, "I'm sorry, I gotta go."

He opened the door and exited the house, leaving Sam still at the table, unable to move or speak.

She heard the engine of his truck turn over and then the squeal of the tires as he pulled away from the curb. She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed loudly. She had shattered the one rule she'd sworn never to break.

o0o

Continues...


	5. Chapter 4

Trapped within her grief, she replayed the events of the night before tragedy had struck.

"I swear, if Wells asks me one more question about pregnancy or delivery, I'm going to throttle him!" "

Janet, it can't be that bad, besides, he's just nervous. I think it's cute. He trusts your medical expertise." Sam smiled into her glass of wine as she tried not to laugh at the face her friend was making at her.

"Sam, I'm not an OB, the only babies I've delivered are now teenagers. And for the record, it's not cute. I'm having nightmares of ultrasound pictures running around the infirmary. Also, I've had several disturbing dreams about all the women in the SGC pregnant and going into labor at the same time. It's awful, I haven't had a decent night's sleep in over a week." Janet groused, taking a rather long drink from her wineglass. "

All the women? Even me?"

Nodding her head emphatically, Janet smirked, "Especially you, twins no less. Hard as I try though, I can't get you to admit to the father."

Sam blushed furiously and stared into the empty glass in her hand. "

So, who do YOU think it is?" Janet baited her mercilessly.

"It's your dream, how would I know?" Sam snapped, frowning at the harsh tone she'd used. "Sorry. Let's change the subject, okay?"

Janet recognized the melancholy tone and asked softly, "What to talk about it?"

"Ha, about what?" Sam scoffed as she grabbed the bottle of wine and poured herself a generous amount before offering some to her friend.

"Sam, what's going on? I thought you and Pete—"

"Right, I guess I forgot to tell you about that. We broke up." Taking another gulp of wine, she added coarsely, "He dumped me, said he didn't like sharing."

Not sure how to respond, Janet repeated, "Sharing?"

Laughing sarcastically, Sam retorted, "Yeah, said it wasn't fair of me to 'have my cake and eat it too'. Of course, my slapping him may have been part of the reason he dumped me. It left a rather obvious hand print on his face and you know how he is about his 'good looks'."

Janet tried not to laugh at the mental picture Sam's words had painted, but failed. Giggling, she probed, "So what did you say?"

With a shrug of her shoulders, she answered, "I told him he was crazy and I didn't know what he was talking about."

"So you lied." Janet stated gently, watching for signs of protest.

"Yeah." The word a mere whisper of breath exhaled with a sigh.

The doctor studied the woman sitting in the chair in front of her. She was unsure whether to broach the forbidden subject, but figured if Sam had opened the door, she might as well follow it through.

"Sam, is this a problem? I'm not talking about Pete. Are you and Jack-"

"No."

Janet waited a moment before implying, "But you still haven't let him go. I'm the last person to tell you how deal with your love life. Heck, I still can't decide if Daniel even wants to date me, let alone anything more. But I do know that you have got to resolve this thing with Jack. Pining isn't healthy and waiting isn't possible. You need to let him go."

Sam sniffled, shaking her head sadly, "I can't. I love him."

She dropped her head in her hands and cried quietly.

Slightly shocked by her friend's confession, Janet leaned forward and extended a hand, squeezing Sam's arm gently. "I know."

Jerking her head up abruptly, Sam gasped and stammered, "Jan, you can't, I mean, you mustn't—this cannot get out. He can't know. No one can."

"No one will know. I promise to take it with me to the grave." Janet's vow reassured her distraught friend.

"Thanks, I know you will." Sam wiped the tears from her face and calmed herself. "Personally, I think Jack knows, but is in denial. Either way, you don't have to worry about it. He knows how to keep a secret, it's his life."

Sam nodded, "Mine too."

"Well, now that we've both released our burdens, how about a sappy, chick-flick to lighten the mood?" Janet suggested, giving Sam's arm another squeeze. "

Sounds great. What movie?" "Titanic?" She laughed at the grimace on Sam's face and conceded, "Pearl Harbor?"

"Ugh, no movies like that, just some nonsense, one of Cassie's maybe. How about Charlie's Angels?"

"Perfect, I love to watch women kick ass." Janet said as she walked over to the TV cabinet and pulled out the DVD.

"Yeah, it's fun to watch someone else do it for a change. I could use a break." Sam laughed, feeling the tension from earlier fade away.

o0o

Continues...


	6. Chapter 5

Sitting alone on the couch, Sam wiped away the tears that slipped silently down her cheeks. He had heard her. Not just the shout of his rank across the open field, but her whispered plea for him to live.

"Sir, just hang on, help is on the way." She felt his pulse begin to slow and leaned into his ear.

"Jack, please, don't do this, I need you. I love you." The last words came out as a sob.

She was alone, with no friend to console her. No one to stay with her, she had ruined everything and for what? A moment of honesty was little comfort in the loneliness of her life. She had her career, but for how long? If he knew, then it wouldn't take long for it to dissolve the 'team dynamics' that General Hammond bragged about to the Joint Chiefs.

That was gone now. She couldn't stand at his side in battle and not think about losing him. Couldn't sit beside him in a briefing and pretend they were just colleagues. It was bad enough to lose Janet; but she had died in the line of duty. Jack was lost to her just the same but she would have to see him everyday knowing it. "

It's not worth it." She mumbled quietly, and then screamed, "IT'S NOT WORTH IT!"

She hurled the bottle of water across the room and watched it splatter all over the wall before falling to the floor and drenching the carpet.

"That's gonna be a pain to clean up, you know. Might need a new paint job."

Jack walked over to where the bottle lay empty on the floor, bent down and picked it up. He went into the kitchen, tossed the bottle into the recycle container and grabbed a towel. Squatting down, he pressed it onto the damp area.

"You don't have to do that." Sam said to him, trying to ignore the tingle that his presence initiated.

"Well, it is my fault, in a way." Finishing the task, he groaned when his knees popped as he stood up. "If I hadn't left, you wouldn't have thrown it."

"I might have." She retorted angrily, "I might have thrown it at you instead."

Jack sat down on the couch beside her and muttered, "I'd have deserved it."

After several minutes of silence, Sam shifted uncomfortably and whispered, "Why are you here?"

"I should never have left like that, I just dumped it on you and I was wrong. As a friend, I shouldn't have let it change things." He leaned into her personal space, nudging her with his shoulder.

"Friends? Are we? After everything, can we still be friends?" Her voice caught in her throat and she feared his response.

"Yeah, we can." He turned to face her, putting a hand under her chin to make their eyes meet and stated firmly. "We will always be friends, no matter what."

She let the tears fall from her lashes and held his gaze. "But—"

"No buts and no regrets." He whispered hoarsely as he leaned forward to kiss her lips briefly, before moving them to her ear.

"Always Sam. Never doubt that." He hugged her tightly and she clung to him as the tremors of grief tore through her.

o0o

Continues...


	7. Chapter 6

They stayed in each other's arms for over an hour, comforting one another and talking quietly about Cassie. Finally, they pulled away, smiling awkwardly and then getting up off of the couch. Jack followed Sam into the kitchen and frowned at the now ruined uneaten soup.

"So, you up for pizza?" He asked glibly, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Definitely. Just no onions or peppers, I don't think I'm quite ready for that." She answered with a smile.

"Right. Besides, they're killer on the breath." He saw her shocked expression and hurried to explain. "Well, we still plan on talking tonight, right?"

"Talking? Yes, just talking." She saw his nod of confirmation and smiled brightly. "So, why don't you call it in and I'll go change into something less frumpy."

Jack watched her walk toward the bedroom door and waited until the door was nearly closed before calling out. "I like frumpy."

The door clicked shut loudly and Sam yelled from the room, "I know."

Jack grinned broadly and reached for the phone. Placing the order, he turned at the sound of the bedroom door opening. He swallowed nervously when he saw what she was wearing.

"What?" Sam asked, puzzled by his flushed appearance. She glanced down at the pink sweater and faded jeans she wore. Not seeing what was so mesmerizing, she walked over to him and noticed his gaze following her. "

What is so fascinating about what I have on?"

"Pink." His voice squeaked, and he cleared his throat. "Uh, I've never seen you wear pink. Blue, yes. Light blue, occasionally. And that red dress at Christmas is burned into my mind, but I never pictured you in pink."

"You picture me?"

Scrambling to come up with an excuse, he gave up and admitted sheepishly, "Yeah."

"So why not pink? I have another shirt in my closet this color, but it's a tank top. I didn't think it would be appropriate."

She saw his eyes widen at the mention of the shirt and laughed, "Maybe some other time?"

Jack nodded in wonder, and then shook his head as if to clear it. "No, not a good idea. Not until we're ready for something else and maybe not even then. I don't think I'd be able to maintain protocol with you wearing that. Best just leave it in the closet."

"Okay, if that's what you want. But I should warn you, it has a matching mini skirt." She teased, backing away from him and walking into the kitchen for a drink.

"Oh, that's just mean!" He complained loudly, hands on hips and pouting like a child.

"Yes, it was. So, I hope the pizza's on it's way, I'm starving." She offered him a soda and began to clear the dishes from the table.

Jack stood rooted to the spot, and smiled wistfully. "This is nice."

"What?" Sam asked over the sound of running water in the sink.

"Nothing. Just thinking out loud." He fibbed, smirking at the sight of his 'friend' washing dishes, in real clothes and bare feet.

Smiling to herself, she began to hum a familiar tune. She realized that she finally had the one thing she had always wanted, someone to love for the rest of her life.

Janet was right. He had known and he would keep it a secret. It would be their secret as long as there was a war to fight or rules to follow.

**End.**


End file.
